Let's Play A Game
by CatchingMalfoy
Summary: She wasn't meant to be different. She was meant to be just the same as any other. She wasn't meant to affect him like this. A game that didn't end up like it should. "This was nothing but a game and it didn't matter if she was different. It shouldn't matter. And either way, he couldn't have her. He didn't deserve her. This was a game that he should never have played."


**Let's Play A Game**

******Beta(s)**: Cassandra (oliverwooded on tumblr)**  
****Pairing(s)/Character(s)**: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger**  
****Disclaimer**: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.**  
Warnings: **Explicit sexual situations, mild profanity

**Prompt #24: In this isolated place, there is only you and me, playing a game of hide-and-seek.**

**AN (please read): **This was my submission for the Silencio FicFest with my incredibly unused livejournal account 'savymusic' that has no posts whatsoever. I've finalllyyy decided to publish this on ffnet so yay! The rule and only rule for this fic was to have no dialogue. Period. That meant **_no_** verbal, internal, recounted, note passing etc dialogue which made this so difficult and challenging. So hopefully it's not too bad and you like it :D

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With her footsteps muffled by the soft carpet, she walked into the room with shaking legs that seemed to refuse to hold her weight. Wet, dripping anxiety tumbled through her body in a hurricane as she held a piece of parchment that was gripped so tightly in her hand that the rough surface was digging painfully into her skin.

Hermione surveyed the room before her as the door clicked shut in a definite rush air. A blackboard consumed the wall opposite her, the words on it lit only by the flickering candlelight that cast her ashen face in shadows, hiding her expression. Ten names were written on it in fine chalk with a neat and trained hand. And each was crossed out until there was only one visible name at the bottom of the blackboard.

_Hers._

The crumpled piece of parchment that had been reduced to nothing but an indecipherable ball fell from her hand. It was a piece of parchment that only held four words written in the elegant script of an aristocratic hand. It was just a piece of parchment that held only four words yet still summoned her to do his bidding. It was simply four insignificant words and still managed to send chills through her body. And these four words, she would _never_ utter aloud. For this was a sick game for the sick of heart. Yet when it came down to it, she knew she wanted those four words. Maybe she was sick at heart, too, but she _wanted_ to play this game too.

A bed was in the corner of the room and it was so extravagant, so luxurious that Hermione had to resist the urge to scoff. Body taught in anticipation, she made her way to the bed, sitting on it with the silk of the sheets oddly cool against her flushed skin – like the cool scales of a snake gliding over hot coal.

And before she could even contemplate leaving, a pair of hands were hot with feverish warmth on her body and all rational thoughts left her mind as the invisible hands slid up and down her sides in such a fervent manner that it left her breathless.

_Let the games begin. _

Hermione could feel his steady, piercing gaze that flushed her skin focused on her and yet she had no clue where he was, only the reassuring warmth of what felt like his hands.

Hidden by a disillusionment charm, he leaned in towards her trembling body, his warm, heated breath rustling the long hair that had fallen from once secure clips into riotous curls. And just as she was taking in a hazy breath, slowly, then all at once, she fell into his overwhelming scent. The sharp fragrance of grass after a heavy storm dwarfed all the other heat as he planted his lips firmly onto her own. It was all consuming, like a blaze of fire that scorched her lips and ran down her body in thin ribbons of flame. His lips burnt hers and he devoured her like a starving man who didn't even know he was hungry.

Invisible hands curled against her waist as though he was physically holding himself back and it certainly didn't help as Hermione kissed the unseeable lips with increasing fervour, slowing breaking down his carefully constructed control. It didn't matter that he was unable to be seen at the moment because her eyes were clamped shut, the darkness wrapping around her like the plethora of sensations that wrought havoc throughout her body with each of his greedy nips, tightening grasps, and stuttered breaths.

Draco pulled away reluctantly, hissing between clenched teeth at the absence of warmth. He hadn't expected their first kiss to be like this. Not at _all _like this. Hermione's eyes snapped open immediately and she made a blind reach for where she thought he would be. Her hand met the fabric that covered his chest and she gripped it tightly, pulling him back in.

His lashes fluttered in hazy desire at how she looked like right there, a wanton gaze and dishevelled hair. Leaning back into her, his hands reached for her shirt buttons and began impatiently pulling them apart, one agonising button at a time. She looked down as her shirt opened, finding it rather unnerving that her clothes seemed to be disappearing through what looked to be an unknown force – although she knew it was him by the way he gasped as his hands accidentally brushed her skin earlier than he'd anticipated.

His body immediately reacted and before he realised what he was doing, he tore off her shirt without a second thought. His hands ran feverishly up and down her bare skin that seemed to electrify him as he claimed her lips again, her mouth moving painfully against his as he slipped his tongue between her parted, swollen lips. He wanted to chant her name. He wanted to chant her name until it lost all meaning. But he couldn't. She couldn't know how much she affected him. And that wasn't true. It couldn't be true because Draco Malfoy was never affected by _anyone_.

He pulled away in a harsh hiss of breath, chest rising and falling in staccato as he scrambled away from her with wide eyes, struggling to maintain his control. He surveyed her with hooded lids; his hands itched to reach for her again.

Hermione looked around in vain as heavy breaths fell from her lips. _Where_ was he? The stupid goddamn disillusionment charm was an annoyance and yet she knew that it was part of the game – part of the game in which he remained in control throughout all of it. Who knew that he was clever enough to perform one? Let alone a _good _one so that he was completely masked.

She could discern a soft panting from the other end of the bed and she found herself crawling towards it. Draco's eyes widened infinitesimally at the image of her moving towards him in only a skirt and a midnight blue bra and he felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his breaths becoming shorter and shallower. No. No. _No. He_ was in control. _Him_.

He pulled away before she could reach him and, jumped off the bed. Hermione sighed to herself in annoyance as she felt the weight of his body being removed from the bed.

Draco watched her with a calculating gaze as he paced around the bed carefully. _He_ was in control and he had _many _plans. She was _his –_ all of her, every single facet of her was his. He _couldn't _let her control him, he reminded himself of that. And yet when her unknowing eyes met his, every single pore of his body willed itself to propel his body towards her as he stood firmly planted on the ground, breathing raggedly through his teeth. He _needed_ control.

With slow, purposeful steps, he approached her, making sure his breath was in check and he looked to be the complete embodiment of perfected control and power, if Hermione had been able to see him. Cautiously, he zeroed in on her, refusing to acknowledge her fragrance that seemed to overpower his mind and enslave him into submission like a deliciously dangerous cocktail.

Eyes sharp, he leaned over the bed until his breath was on her neck, raising the thin, fine hairs on her skin. Hermione breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent and leaning in towards him, attempting to find contact but to no avail – he had moved away with the only thing to remind her being his intoxicating scent that sent shivers up her spine.

He fought to keep his eyes alert – to not let them droop in the haze of overwhelming desire. With his hand reaching out, he stroked the smooth skin of her shoulder and she gasped as electricity shot through her body. She twisted in his direction, reaching for flesh to pull him back into her but only to find thin air and a whisper of his presence. He gave her another slip of the hand, this time brushing the underside of her breast and she fought the urge to moan, as though the skin he touched had been burnt. Her hand searched for him but he was gone. He traced her spine with one long finger, gently digging in his nail at the base of her spine and she twisted around again only to be greeted with empty air.

She began to pant and his eyes darkened as he resisted the temptation that looked so _edible_ before him. He _had_ to. He was in _control_. And she would be _begging _for him soon. He gifted her with another caress, another stroke, another taste of his touch. She was being driven out of her mind with each contact of skin and all she wanted to do was to hold him up against her body until the fire that came with his touch engulfed her. Little did she know that he was beginning to have the same intentions against his will.

He leaned in, too close this time to be certain that she wouldn't find him, and this time, his lips found her neck, biting, licking and sucking the soft flesh as her heat scorched his tongue. He had to clamp his mouth shut to avoid releasing a groan that would show her how much he was failing at his prescribed plan. Hermione's hands fell limp by her side and she lost all intention of trying to grab a hold of him – just as long as he would continue.

Just as she released a breathy moan, Draco pulled away as far as he could, panting, her heady taste still burning on his tongue. Her eyes fluttered open and he found himself leaning in, once again too close. She released a breath of approval as he latched himself against her neck once more, drowning in her taste and fragrance. And yet again, he reluctantly tore himself from away her similar to two magnets having to be ripped apart.

Breathing heavily in frustration, Hermione crossed her arms against her chest and glared at the air.

Draco watched her with wild eyes, his loud, drawn-out pants. She looked positively _enthralling _at the centre of the bed and he leaned in for another taste – but this time, it was before he was ready and instead with lust driven eyes and a hunger that couldn't be sated. His hot breath skimmed her cheek as he sucked at her jaw – too close again, he was too close and already out of his depth as he rode on the sensations.

And just as he was beginning to see sense and tear his lips away from her jaw, her hands found his chest, sliding up and lacing through his feathery hair. A low sound escaped from between his lips as he relished at the sensation.

Breathing heavily against her neck, he attempted to draw himself out of his haze and remember his original plans and yet the minute she pressed her body up against him, all rational thoughts disappeared and he was a mess of seething groans and sighs, sliding his hands feverishly up and down her sides in recognition. Draco sighed against her neck, muffled against her skin yet it sounded like thunder in the silent room.

_No_, he _couldn't_. He was in _control._ And in spite of that, all he could think about now was how her skin on his sent shivers through his body whilst simultaneously igniting it too.

However, before he could even attempt pushing her away, her lips crashed into his.

Salazar save him.

Her lips scorched his as her tongue branded him as her own. She felt like fire on ice to him and he knew that no heat in the world was _anything_ in comparison to this. He held onto her with shaking arms, pressing her body even tighter into his, crushing her as she kissed back with increasing fervour, leaving his bones weak and muscles trembling.

Draco's body froze as he attempted to hold onto the last shreds of dignity he had. He fought against the sensations that were wreaking havoc on his body – he fought against _her_ – against her lips, her tongue, her fragrance, the feeling of her skin rubbing against his, he fought against all of _her_. And he _knew_ that he was fighting a losing battle because with each suck and nip, his hunger grew until all he could think of was _her_.

Hermione's hands found his shoulders and before he could even contemplate what she was doing, she pushed him down as he released an abrupt breath of air, similar to a gasp of astonishment, startled the hair framing her face. His eyes widened in unadulterated surprise, his ragged breathing halted from the shock and before her very eyes, his disillusionment charm crumbled until she saw him for the first time; his ruffled platinum hair and stormy grey eyes that were consumed by dilated pupils with a delicious hardness pressed against the inside of her thigh.

He was the most _sinful_ temptation.

His lips were still parted in shock as he taught himself to breathe again, sucking in shaky breaths. No girl had ever done this – made him lose control, let alone break his perfectly constructed disillusionment charm. None. None. None. He could no longer deny that Hermione Granger was just the same as any other now – not anymore. No one else had driven him to the brink of insanity; so far that he didn't even _care_ that he had lost control, only that she would want him to stay. Draco Malfoy was _affected_ and that had never happened, in fact, he'd been certain that it never would – until it did. He succumbed to her – _all _of her – he acknowledged every single inch of her and realised that he _wanted_ every single fucking inch. He said goodbye to his plans as she leaned down to kiss him again, her lips burning his in a fiery dance because plans meant nothing to him. All he wanted was to be buried to the _hilt_ in her.

Her hands slid up and down his back, tugging at the hem of his shirt, the pressing desire overwhelming her as his scent of fresh grass after rain invaded and burnt through her nostrils like wildfire. Draco, with decreasing patience, was suddenly highly annoyed at the invention of clothing as he tore off his shirt while she watched with hungry eyes.

He was the _personification _of all her fantasies and temptations. Pale, lean and muscular, he sat up, piercing mercury eyes meeting hers and bringing heat to her cheeks.

Hands reaching up to unclasp her bra, Draco felt his stomach clench painfully at the sight – the creamy skin of her torso completely uncovered and entirely his. Unzipping her skirt rapidly, he threw away her last articles of clothing, nearly ripping her panties in the process of removing them. He immediately pulled away to relish the image before him, knowing that this would be one of the last times he would be able to stare at her unabashedly. She blushed underneath his heated gaze. Hermione Granger was naked and _completely _vulnerable. And little did she know that he was too.

He had thrown away all games, all misconceptions of control and there was nothing left to hide him from her steady gaze that made his lower abdomen tighten painfully and his breath quicken.

Hermione's eyes widened as he reached for his belt. This was going to happen. This was _real_. Hermione Granger was going to have _sex_ with Draco Malfoy. She bit her lip anxiously as arousal tinted her cheeks and darkened her irises. Somehow, she'd thought he'd be more … sadistic? And yet instead, here he was, completely ready to give her what she'd wanted.

Her lashes fluttered at the sight of his terribly sinful body being revealed as he impatiently threw away his trousers; his eyes meeting hers again in a heated gaze filled with unspoken, forbidden promises and a longing that could not be communicated through words.

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as his eyes scoured hers, her fragrance searing into his pores and just when he knew he would give in and stop simply staring at her, he felt her hair skimming his chest a millisecond after her lips claimed his again and he vowed that he would _never_ fucking forget. He hissed against her tongue as she pressed herself up against him, their feverish skin rubbing against one another in distinct fervour.

His hand cupped one of her breasts, thumbing it gently and her lips parted as she gazed up at him with glassy eyes. Repressing the urge to groan, Draco leaned back into her kiss, hands searching every pocket of her bare skin, running up and down until his hands were raw.

Draco's hands found the sharp incline of her hips and slowly, slipped a hand between her thighs however before he could even attempt to touch more than just her thigh, Hermione gave him a quick thrust of impatience and his fingers found the silken heat of her arousal. She was so wet he nearly swore. In fact, he would end up swearing later, many, many times over in his room as he relived the night. Applying pressure, he slid a finger between her folds and he nearly collapsed in wonder. She was hot, tight and completely _his_. He couldn't _comprehend_ what it'd be like for his _cock_ to be in the place of his finger right now.

Hermione's hands gripped onto the smooth surface of his shoulders and pulled him down with her as she sunk back into the bed. He bit his lip firmly as he felt his hard length rub against her thigh in the most sinful manner. He was fucked. Draco's eyes were dark with starvation, found hers and he whispered an unspoken question. Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at his caution but nodded back nevertheless.

He positioned his cock at her entrance and had to bury his head in her neck to suppress the low groan that escaped his lips as her fingers tangled in his hair. He wanted her. He wanted her so fucking badly that he would do nearly anything. _Why_ was she affecting him so much? _Why_. He was being driven literally out of his mind by a single fucking woman. He was being driven insane by Hermione _Granger_.

However, before he could even contemplate wrenching himself away in realisation, she lifted her hips up to meet his, wrapping her legs about his waist as he involuntarily sunk into her too until he was buried to the fucking _hilt_ and suddenly nothing was important – absolutely fucking _nothing_. His eyes, wide and dark with lust, rolled to the back of his head, fluttering shut at the pure onslaught of sensations, struggling to regain the last remnants of control he had just in case he'd accidentally hurt her.

He felt his body arch painfully at the sensations of her walls wrapped tightly around his length – so tightly he could feel her heat _burning_ straight through his length and through him like a wildfire with no mercy as he gritted his teeth, eyes opening to meet hers, their breath mingling as his nose brushed hers – a contact of the most intimate kind. She was tight – oh so tight that it could very well be her first time. But he knew. He knew. He knew Granger and she would never have come here with him if she was. Draco Malfoy knew her and Hermione Granger was no idiot. She was definitely not a virgin but … maybe it was her second … He shook his head furiously, shaking away the thoughts of her with another, his body rippling as his muscles tensed, protesting against the idea – something almost akin to jealousy. He knew he _shouldn't_ be jealous – with his hypocritical ten, disgusting names written on the board like conquests.

Hermione watched through half lidded eyes as he fought to regain control, breathing heavily through his clenched teeth, hidden by swollen, red lips. Locks of snowy hair hung from his forehead as his eyes began to focus on hers once again. And despite the stabbing pain, Draco Malfoy felt absolutely breathtaking inside her.

And slowly, ever so slowly, he drew out of his primal side and focused on her. He wouldn't add any more to her pain. He focused on nothing but her, because nothing else mattered except her. And with a hiss of pleasure escaping his lips, he began to move at a painfully measured and unhurried pace against her.

She sucked in a low breath as he slid out of her before thrusting back in – agonisingly slow, their breaths mingling between their lips that were only inches apart, so close that he would only need to tilt his face for their lips to clash. But he wouldn't. Because he wasn't that sort of person – he wasn't intimate in any form. At least that's what Hermione thought, until he tilted his jaw and their lips clashed in heated chaos. He sucked, nipped and licked at her mouth as he continued his torturingly slow pace.

She tore her lips away to catch her breath as his eyes fluttered open and she was absolutely captivated by the irises of stormy grey that seemed to cackle with electricity. Draco searched her half lidded ones and found only one message that was most definitely mutual.

_More_.

And so with a ragged intake of breath, he thrust swiftly against her rising hips as the just inhaled breath released through his parted lips, body beginning to tremble. Hermione gasped at the twinge of pain and he stopped in an instant. She opened her mouth to tell him he was okay but his lips crashed into hers, soothing and comforting and forcing her to relax. Finally, he pulled away and she was humming happily as all of her muscles, one by one, relaxed. Hands planted firmly beside her head and tangled in her hair, he slid out carefully once again before plunging back into her roughly, her body arching against his this time, moans escaping past her lips.

Her nails clawed against his back, leaving stark red painted lines against his alabaster skin as he thrust against her roughly again and again in sporadic jolts of quaking limbs that refused to hold up his weight. He could feel sweat bead at his forehead from the pure effort to _resist_ from coming. He _wouldn't_. He _wouldn't_ until he felt her sweet walls contract involuntarily against his length because this was about her – all about _her, her, her. _Hissing, he dipped down even lower until he was resting on his elbows as his hips moved against hers in perfect timing.

Hermione's eyes fluttered closed after each painfully pleasurable thrust of hips but she would always open them again to take _every_ sensation in. She would sear every single aspect of this into her memory from the sharp hisses or groans that slipped through between his lips to the way his eyes would shift from focused to unfocused to how the faint smell of his sweat mingled with his intoxicating fragrance of fresh grass.

She could feel the inexplicable building of the end despite the initial pain, the tingling of her extremities and clenching of legs and it was made only more definite as he slipped a wicked hand between her legs to stroke her clit and all notions of pain were replaced by something even more agonising that was drawing out relentless moans from her hoarse throat.

His ragged breathing was at her ears, his heated breath burning her flesh whilst his nose nudged her jaw, his groans lifting out of his throat and hanging in the air as he thrust into her scorching heat.

Hard.

Fast.

Frantic.

Their skin slapped together and coupled with their mutual moans and groans, it was a symphony of the most sinful sort. It was as if his thrusts were crotchets, his long dragged out breaths were minims and the relentless circling of her clit were quavers quivering in staccato – all in perfect rhythm and it was driving them both _mad_.

He knew he was close – _so fucking close_. He clenched his jaw and held on as tightly as he could to the last strands of reality he still had. He urged her internally; _come on, love_, he repeated in his mind in a mantra that soon lost all meaning. He _needed_ her to come.

And there it was – the beginning of the end. And it was fucking _glorious_. Draco's entire body shook as she tensed around him, ever so tightly so that he felt as if he was drowning. Her breath came out in staggered gasps of air and he knew he'd never seen anything more mesmerising.

Hermione cried out and a single word fell from her lips – his_ name_. However before she could even contemplate the implications, her entire body was doused in agonising pleasure as her orgasm ripped through her, shattering her into pieces resembling broken glass shards. Through it all, he watched her with half-lidded eyes veiled with lust as her spasmodic jolts wrapped around his length, until he was certain he'd dreamt his name falling from between her pink, swollen lips.

He waited until she sighed breathlessly before he removed his hand from thumbing her clit and thrust irregularly against her, propping himself on his hands for leverage knowing that it wasn't going to be long before he – fuck. And with that, his entire body tensed to torturing standards as all air escaped his vicinity until he was gasping for air. His orgasm crashed over him in a tidal wave as he came _hard_ into her, body trembling from the sheer force.

She watched whilst Draco's face screwed up for a fraction of a second before relaxing, lids fluttering shut, hiding behind long gold flecks that were his lashes and it was as if he was an angel with his dishevelled platinum hair falling like a halo on his head.

With his chest heaving, his eyes opened, shimmering slate grey. Smiling softly, he pulled himself out of her, hissing in the process before collapsing on the opposite side of the bed. Hermione pulled the sheets over her vulnerable body, her ragged breathing calming down after the high, rubbing her thighs together at the abrupt twinge of pain between her legs.

He looked at her with a pained look and reluctantly pulled her into his bare torso, crushing her tight and burying his head into her hair, breathing in her fragrance. He would never forget it. He would never forget the way her feverish skin felt, the way her scent consumed him until he was heady and the way she'd look at him as if she felt the same. But she _couldn't_. Because he was Draco fucking Malfoy and he didn't deserve her. He deserved _none_ of her. She wasn't his his but he was hers. He was hers. He was completely and fucking utterly hers. Breathing steadily, their limbs tangled together for a sweet fragment of a moment before he accepted the reality of the situation.

This was a game. This was just a game. This was nothing but a game. Draco glanced at her closed lids and his stomache clenched at the idea of leaving. But this was nothing but a game and it didn't matter if she was different. He swore to himself that it didn't matter – it _shouldn't _matter. And either way, he couldn't have her. He didn't_ deserve_ her. This was _just a game_ and he _shouldn't_ want her.

He gave her one last short kiss of breathy moans, an echo of their previous heat, before tearing himself away from her – something he'd grown too accustomed to and something that would hurt just the same each time.

She felt the warmth of his body leave hers and heard the soft padding of bare feet on carpet. He didn't dare look back and she didn't dare open her eyes to check. The distinctive ruffle of clothes being haphazardly put on graced her ears as she forced herself to not grow attached. She _wouldn't_. She was Hermione Granger and she was smarter than that. One knew not to grow attached to those such as Draco Malfoy. There was a sharp screech of chalk pressed _hard_ on the blackboard in the deafening silence before the door to the room of requirement slammed shut in an audible crack of wood against stone.

She didn't know how long she stayed. The decisive clicks of the second hand on the clock were longer any measurement of time; instead she simply counted her hushed breaths in the silent room.

Opening her eyes cautiously, she found no-one else in the empty room. He was gone. Standing up, her body left the pocket of warmth that she had made in the bed after his had long grown cold. Hermione pulled out the bed sheets, wrapping herself in the silky fabric that had adorned the mattress, feeling the cool scales of the snake sliding up and down her body.

She walked away from the bed until she was staring head on at the notorious blackboard. Her name, once written in the neat trained hand of an instructor was crossed out messily with a wavering line drawn by an unsteady hand, contrasting sharply against the neat lines that had struck through the names above hers.

As if she was different.

She felt a violent jerk of magic and immediately the blackboard was cleared, all names that once were there, gone and replaced with words that sent shivers through her bone.

"_In this isolated place, there is only you and me, playing a game of hide-and-seek._"

Hermione closed her eyes at the repulsive words before she wiped the blackboard clean with her wand, leaving no trace of what had occurred. _None_.

None but the distinguishable aroma of sweat and sex and the memories seared into her mind.

For none would know. None would _ever_ know.

For this was a sick game for the sick of heart.

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**AN: Hopefully you didn't notice the missing of the dialogue but it was a great challenge and I hope you all liked it :D Reviews are much appreciated of course!**


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